Throwing Bones
by FaerieGirl301
Summary: In which Harry Potter learns that he has more responsibilities than he thought possible.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Out of the Hospital Wing, early in the morning, Harry made his way to the Gryffindor common room. The fire was low, and the light streaming through the large windows as grey.

He walked toward the windows facing the Forbidden Forest.

It had been a long day and an even longer night.

Harry was exhausted, depressed, and looking for an escape from his thoughts.

_Cedric had been a brave Hufflepuff, but he had still died. Scum like Voldemort don't care who they kill_, Harry snarled to himself.

The thought only depressed him further, leaving him without the energy to attempt the stairs.

His eyes roamed around the room and settled on one of the plushy armchairs. _Might as well be comfortable before everyone wakes up._

As soon as he sat down, he was asleep.

* * *

"Harry...Harry! Harry, are you alright?"

He snapped his eyes open, his entire body tensed before he realized where he was.

Cautiously, Hermione touched his shoulder. "Are you alright Harry? You were having a bad dream," she frowned with concern.

Harry shrugged, dropping his eyes. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?" he asked, grumpily.

"I was coming to see you in the Hospital Wing, but instead I found you here. Why didn't you stay put last night? Madam Pomfrey will be worried," she said softly.

"Sorry Hermione," Harry sighed, tilting his head back. "I'm...not feeling well, but I couldn't stand the Hospital Wing anymore."

Hermione looked at him for a moment. She nodded thoughtfully. _Harry looks awful, as expected, I suppose. Perhaps, a distraction would help._

"Come with me," she said and started walking toward the portrait door.

A bewildered look passed over Harry's face before he hurried after her.

* * *

"Well, this is a surprise," Harry said slowly, with a small smile hovering around the corners of his mouth.

"The S.P.E.W representative taking me to see house elves. How scandalous." he continued.

Hermione gave a toss of her hair and tickled the pear. As the door swung open she said, "I thought if anything could cheer you, it would be house elves and good food."

"Harry Potter, sir! What is you doing here?" Dobby called in surprise from the near the fireplace.

"Hello Dobby. I'm not sure why I'm here yet," he said with a curious look at Hermione.

She smiled a mischievous look on her face. "We are hoping to have an indoor picnic Dobby. Could we have some sandwiches, please?" She turned to Harry and saw his confused look.

"We haven't had much time to talk, you and I. Even if you don't want to talk about yesterday, I'd still like to talk about other things."

Slightly surprised, Harry paused before replying. "Of course. I suppose we both have been busy," he said, a smile widening on his face.

* * *

Dumbledore moved away from his window, the bright morning sunlight glinting off his white hair and beard.

He sighed to himself, thinking of the times to come. His thoughts were focused on the summer and all the possible moves his adversary, and former student, could make. A ringing tone echoed through the office, and he quickly moved toward the fireplace.

"Poppy, what brings you to my fireplace this morning?" he asked, a congenial smile on his face.

"Drop the pleasantries, Albus. The Potter boy has escaped the Infirmary, again," she said quickly.

He sighed, "Give me but a moment Poppy." Turning to his desk, he pulled a paper off one leaning stack.

"Harry Potter is currently in the kitchens with Hermione Granger." Turning back to the fireplace, he said, "There now. Nothing to worry about, after all," he said.

A variety of expression crossed the healer's face before settling on repressed frustration.

"Be it on your head then, if he falls ill before the day is out," she said firmly before closing the floo connection.

Dumbledore leaned back from the fireplace, a sad look on his face.

"The boy deserves some happiness while he can," Albus murmured to himself.

* * *

"So Fudge gave you the prize money anyway?" Ron asked.

Harry shook himself and turned away from the train window. Outside, Hogwarts grew increasingly distant. _For once, I'm not sure how sad I am about leaving Hogwarts_, he thought scowling.

"Yeah, the Minister said that, technically, I won the tournament," Harry said softly.

The grimace still on his face, he thought about the 1000 galleons the Minister had shoved into his hands. The money still made his stomach roll over unpleasantly.

He glanced at Hermione, thinking of the past week. She had been the one to talk him through his depression over the money, and Cedric's murder. His eyes grew a little brighter at what he decided to do with the money.

Before getting on the train that morning, Harry had cornered the Weasley twins and forced the money on them.

He had demanded that they do something good with the money, so that something positive would come out of Cedric's death.

He smiled a bit and realized both Hermione and Ron was staring at him.

"Err. What?" he asked.

"Nothing, you just blanked out there for a minute," Hermione said carefully.

Harry forced a slightly bigger smile onto his face to reassure them.

"I'm alright. You'll both write to me this summer, right?" Harry's eyebrows rose expectantly.

"Of course, mate. We won't abandon you to the clods you live with," Ron said indignantly.

"Good. Well then, let's play Exploding Snap 'til the trolley comes round," Harry replied, a true smile replacing the fake one.

_Well_, Hermione thought, _maybe he'll be alright after all_.

Chapter 2

_Home again_, Hermione found herself thinking with relief. It was still strange being away from her parents. They had been all she had while growing up. No friends, no pets, only books, and her family_. I wonder why I'm in such an introspective mood_. Her brows drew together; as she realized that much of the last week had been spent thinking about family, friends, and death. _Time to fix this_.

* * *

"How was he Sirius? Do you think he'll be able to handle the Dursleys?" Remus asked.

Molly Weasley overheard Remus's question as she walked toward the kitchen. _Poor things, the three of them_. She couldn't stop the prickle behind her eyes as she thought about the trials they'd all face ahead. _We've still got Dumbledore_, she consoled herself. Sirius Black's ancestral home did nothing alleviate her fears. The walls of the house seemed to close in on her as she made her way. _Almost there now_.

As she pushed open the door to the kitchen, Albus' bright blue eyes twinkled at her. Immediately, she felt almost comically relieved. "Albus Dumbledore, this is an absolutely dreadful house, and an even worse choice of meeting place," she said sternly.

"Ah, Molly. I know, I know. Here, sit. The others will arrive shortly," the Headmaster rose from the chair at the head of the table and turned toward the fireplace.

"Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall," the Headmaster cried, while throwing the fluorescent green floo powder on the flames. When the flames grew bright green, he knelt and placed his head into the flames.

"Albus, I was about to call Severus. We'll be there within twenty minutes," the Deputy Headmistress said hurriedly.

"Of course, Minerva. Remind Filius and Pomona that they are welcome, as well," Dumbledore backed out of the grate and closed the connection.

_Always on top of everything, Minerva_, Dumbledore thought fondly. Contacting the Gryffindor Head led his thoughts to Harry. _Poor boy, I'll have to tell him soon. I should have told him before now._

His musings were interrupted by a slamming sound coming from above.

"Well Molly, I believe our Auror contingent has arrived," he said with a smile lighting up his sombre face.

The Weasley matriarch chuckled, "Tonks, she's always been that way."

"What way?" the woman in question exclaimed as she entered the kitchen.

"Clumsy. Horribly, terribly clumsy, my dear cousin," Sirius said with a wide smile.

Following him, Remus Lupin shook his head at the young Auror's expression. "Relax Tonks. You know how he is."

"Humph," was all she said as she fell into a seat.

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody strode through the door next. The pair of them acknowledged the Headmaster's nod and quietly took seats.

Albus slowly sat down in his chair, contemplating, as the kitchen filled with witches and wizards. _Am I too old to lead? If I'm too old, then certainly Harry is too young_. As a frown overtook his face, the remaining stragglers trickled in. Eventually, the room was quiet and still.

The Headmaster surveyed the room. "I believe it's time we begin."

* * *

Harry hated his relatives. If there were anyone he hated more, it was most likely Voldemort. This summer was already going worse than the summer Dobby had stopped his mail. He leaned against the wall of his room, a deep scowl on his face.

His aunt and uncle had picked him up from King's Cross in complete silence. When they had arrive home, his uncle immediately spat out all the new rules for living in their home. They were clearly still incensed about what Harry termed the Marge Incident.

Cleaning and taking care of odd jobs around the house wasn't so awful. Demanding he stay in his bedroom the rest of the time wasn't unexpected, but their treatment was unfair and still stung. Harry took off his glasses, wondering at the strength of his headache. 'I might as well sleep until Aunt Petunia calls me for dinner.' He toed off his shoes and fell into an uneasy slumber.

When he opened his eyes again, the room was dark. Strange, multicoloured lights shone through the window. He rolled out of bed and stepped over to the window. The sight that greeted him was not Privet Drive. He was overlooking the graveyard of the third task, and the lights were spells cast by himself and Voldemort.

"What is this? Harry said, quickly stumbling away from the window.

He backed into another person and whirled around to face them. "Wha' the hell? Mum..." Harry's mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"What is going on? Is this a dream?" Harry backed away from the woman who appeared to be his mother. "This is not possible. You're not possible!"

The woman stepped toward him, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "Yes, Harry, this is a sort of dream. Or at least, you're reliving your battle with Voldemort in your sleep. However, I've appeared in this particular dream as a representation of the residual love magic left in your system."

"Err. So, what are you supposed to be doing?" Harry asked with confusion lacing his words.

"Forgive me. I'll try to be clear. The spell your mother placed on you protected you from Voldemort's touch. That protection has been breached." A frown crossed her face as she continued, "As such, the spell is altering. The power you had to attack Voldemort will be channelled into your own magical strength and talents, instead."

Harry interrupted her, "Wait, I'll be more powerful? Why not make it that way in the first place?" He shifted to sitting on the corner of his bed, his arms crossed sceptically.

"I do not know the answer to that. I am only a representation of your mother's spell," she said apologetically.

"Oh. Err, well, thank you for telling me...will I see you again?" he asked, a hopeful expression lighting up his eyes.

"I would not think so, Harry," she smiled again. "I believe, however, that you will find yourself too busy to worry about me, soon enough. After all, you'll be fifteen soon."

"Yes, but what does that have to with anything?" Harry asked.

"You'll see. Time to wake up now," she smiled once more and snapped her fingers.

Harry opened his mouth, but as he blinked, she disappeared and the lighting in the room changed. Somehow, he found himself lying down again. Harry looked around the room, bewildered. "Where did she go? Was that just a dream?" he asked the air.

He heard a sharp rap at the door, and his uncle's voice followed.

"Potter! Get your lazy arse out of bed. Come make dinner boy," his uncle shouted, before stomping back down the stairs.

Harry sat up and swung his legs off the bed onto the floor. The dream made no sense, he decided, but he had no idea what to do about it. Lifting his hands, he scrubbed his face vigorously. 'Alright. I'll make dinner, and then write to Sirius and Hermione. They might be able to figure this out.'

Before he left the room, he peered out the window. The back garden of Number 2 Privet Drive greeted him. 'At least that part was a dream.' The thought reassured him a bit, as he walked toward his relatives.

* * *

Hedwig soared through the sky, the light of the moon reflecting off her wings. The House of the Dog-man was difficult to find, but eventually the magic of the house let the owl in.

She swooped to the first open window she could find. Landing on the desk, she saw only sleeping redheads in the room. The owl flapped through the open doorway and made her way toward the place with the loudest noise.

"Hedwig!" Remus stood up from the kitchen table. "How did you get inside, girl?"

"That's Harry's owl, isn't it Dad?" Bill Weasley asked his father.

"Yes. Yes, it is. Hagrid picked out a very smart owl for the boy," Arthur responded with surprise in his voice.

"It's addressed to you Sirius," Remus passed the letter to the man. "Do you want some water Hedwig?" Remus asked, already pouring some water into a bowl. The owl bobbed her head into the dish a few times before taking flight once more.

Sirius opened the letter as Hedwig left.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_I hope you're alright, wherever you are. I wanted to tell you about a dream I had_

_this afternoon. I was in my room at the Dursley's, but outside my window_

_Voldemort and I were fighting. Behind me, this woman who looked like Mum was_

_telling me about love magic. She said that I'd be more powerful because Mum's old_

_spell on me is changing. And what happens when I turn fifteen? I hope you'll be_

_able to write back._

_Harry_

Sirius blinked and quickly read the letter again. Remus moved closer to read over his shoulder. After they finished, both men looked at each other and sighed.

"You'll need to write back and ask for more detail Sirius," Remus frowned, thinking. "Albus has said something about Lily and love magic, but I can't quite remember," he murmured to himself.

"It prevented Voldemort from touching him. But what's this about Harry turning fifteen?" Sirius growled. "How would Harry have a dream about that?" he said, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm supposed to tell him about that with Albus in a few weeks."

The other three men exchanged befuddled looks before Sirius folded the letter saying, "I need to floo call Albus, excuse me."

"I haven't a clue as to what Sirius was rambling about. I'll be going to bed then. Goodnight Arthur, Bill," Remus nodded to them as he left the kitchen. He wondered about what the letter meant and worried about Harry's dream. _Perhaps I'll just write a letter to Harry myself._

Chapter 3

Harry looked up at the ceiling, wondering when Hedwig would fly through the window. What would Sirius have to say about his dream? Thinking about the sequence grew stranger and stranger, and Harry felt silly for writing it down. But what was he supposed to do? He'd never had a dream about his mother before.

Rolling into his side, he closed his eyes in an attempt to ignore the sounds of the Dursleys waking up. He knew one of them would be by soon. A thump sounded on his door at that moment. Harry sighed and pushed himself out of bed.

"I'm up already," he grumbled. _Damn Dursleys, can't do anything without their very own houseboy_, he thought, tightening his lips and readying himself to face his family.

Moving to the wardrobe at the foot of the bed, his thoughts fell back toward the dream. _Should probably write it down before I forget anything else about it._ As he picked out a shirt and a pair of jeans, he wondered how his friends were doing. _Maybe I should write to Cho, Dumbledore's talk at the leaving feast didn't tell her anything._

While Harry contemplated this, Hermione was thinking of quite a different matter.

* * *

_Urgh. How do I word this? _ She was attempting to turn down Viktor Krum's offer to visit Bulgaria. She and her parents had decided not to go on their annual summer holiday. When she told her parents that she wanted to visit her school friends throughout the summer, instead, it started a conversation about the entire TriWizard tournament.

Eventually, Hermione revealed that one of the student competitors had been murdered, and her own best friend had nearly shared the same fate. A running argument about the school's safety lasted the first week of her vacation. _Finally. They're ready to settle down now, I hope._

Harry's letter had sat, opened, on her desk, with Hedwig occasionally coming to her window to check for any replies. "Sorry Harry," she said, looking over the letter again. The dream was quite out of the ordinary, even for Harry. Before she sat down to reply, she walked over to the bookcases in the far corner of the room. _Harry could use one of my blank journals. Though I suppose he'll feel uncomfortable with a lavender one._ She smirked and chose a deep, royal blue instead. Journal in hand, she crossed the room and sat down in front of a blank sheet.

_Dear Harry,  
I'm sorry about making you wait so long for a reply! I read through your letter several times, and I'm starting to believe that this was not just one of your normal dreams. Unfortunately, I know very little on love magic, or blood magic for that matter. But, I have read that old, magical families like the Potters sometimes had specific spells to protect the first-born child. Maybe we can start our search there. Do you know anything about the history of your family? Even if you don't, Padfoot and Moony will likely have some hints. Enough about that. I'm sending you a diary so that you can write down any more dreams and your findings._

_Love from,  
Hermione_

She read the letter once more before rolling it up. Turning to the journal, she lifted the cover and quickly scratched a note on the first page. _There. Now to write Ron before Hedwig comes back._

_

* * *

_

Very far from Hermione's neighbourhood, a man with glowing crimson eyes stood looking down at a steep drop. The waves crashed upon each other and on the sheer cliff face. Lord Voldemort turned away from the spray and surveyed his party. A tall, lanky black-haired man stood near a platinum blonde. Both men held themselves stiffly, as if to avoid shivering.

"My Lord, how may we serve you?" Snape asked first, his eyes focused on a point near the hem of his Master's robe.

"Always eager to please, aren't you, Severus Snape," Voldemort's tone made the words sound like an accusation and a curse. His red eyes smouldered, and a smirk grew, as the professor seemed to cave the slightest bit.

"No matter. You will serve, and well, despite your shortcomings," Voldemort nodded to Lucius Malfoy as he continued. "We will be changing our tactics in this phase of our war. I require both of you to advise me in strategy."

Here he beckoned them to follow him away from the cliff. As they walked, he elaborated, "Hogwarts will be of increased importance in the near future, and as such I will need detailed reports on both teachers and students, Severus."

His face blank, the professor replied, "Of course my Lord."

"How might I assist you then, my Lord?" Lucius jumped in.

"You are well-versed in the politics of the Ministry. As a pureblood, you will have much sway with politicians who do not yet support my cause. We will need them soon," only slight irritation shaded the wizard's tone as he answered.

The two servants glanced at each other as they reached a door. The wooden door was unremarkable, save that it stood alone. No walls or any other structure surrounded it. Voldemort looked back at the two men and laughed mockingly.

"For all your vaunted pure blood, you know very little about magic," the evil wizard sneered condescendingly, "I will change all that."

With that, he pushed open the door and led the way inside.

* * *

Harry sat at his desk, waiting for his turn at the shower. His aunt had kept him busy at work all day, but she seemed to lack much of the viciousness of previous years. 'She really was alright today. Even gave me a hat and sunscreen. I'd wonder who Imperio'd her, but she still treats Dudley the same.'

Hearing the water shut off in the bathroom, Harry stood to gather his towel. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of white. 'Hedwig!' He opened the window happily, and the owl dropped a package on his desk before landing on her perch.

He smiled brightly, the exhaustion seeming to disappear. "What'd you bring me then?" he asked her.

Hedwig only hooted in response. Stroking her feathers fondly, he used one hand to remove the letter from her leg. Unrolling it, he scanned it briefly and began to frown.

"I really don't know anything about them," he murmured sadly. He stroked the owl's plumage one more time before putting the letter down to pick up the diary. Taking off the brown wrapping paper, his eyes widened at the deep blue leather covering the book.

"This is much nicer than I was expecting," he said, shocked. He opened the front cover and noticed Hermione's additional script.

'You deserve nice things Harry Potter. I refuse to take it back. But...you can repay me by showing me some of the songs you've written.'

He chuckled as he closed the cover. As he turned to the floorboard underneath his bed, another owl flew through the window. Harry blinked in surprise, wondering whom the letter could be from.

Carefully, he approached the owl, trying to recognize anything about it. As he came closer, he saw the Gringotts sigil, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Taking the letter from the bird, he slowly slit the envelope and pulled out the enclosure.

_Mr. Harold James Potter,  
We at Gringotts wish to console you on the loss of your parents. As such, we invite you to a private reading of the late James and Lily Evans Potter will. At this reading, you may bring two witnesses. The reading will occur on July 15 at 5pm.  
To confirm your acceptance, please sign the bottom of this sheet. A portkey will be delivered to you._

_Sincerely,  
Gringotts Banking_

Harry read the letter again, his mind reeling. _A will reading? Doesn't that happen right after someone dies? _ His face scrunched up in confusion, he tugged on his hair for a moment.

"You can go. I'll be using my own owl," he said to the Gringotts bird, before turning back to the letter.

Harry sank onto his bed, an irritated scowl on his face as the owl escaped out the window.

"Do you know anything about this?" he asked Hedwig. The owl hooted softly and watched as he picked up a pen and the diary.

_I suppose this will get some use, won't it_. He began to write, thinking of how pleased Hermione would be.

Chapter 4

The day broke with not a gleam of sunlight to be seen. Albus walked to the window of his office, wishing for just a bit of sunlight. _Sometimes, I believe there is a weather god who lives only to mock me._ The thought made him smile just a bit, as he turned away from the gloomy vista just outside. All throughout Scotland, and much of Britain the weather was oppressing. For many wizards and witches, the weather reflected their suppressed fears about the Voldemort nonsense they had read in the papers.

Although the newspapers had made a point to trash Albus Dumbledore as a fear monger, the public remembered the frightening days of the last war. Any mention of a return of those days had them up late at night contemplating whether to leave the country or not. After all, who knew if the Boy-Who-Lived really could defeat You-Know-Who again.

Albus walked towards Fawkes and lifted a hand to stroke the phoenix. _How calm this creature is. I wish we could all have this one's assurance. Ah, well, being safe and happy is something worth fighting for, when it comes down to it._ The phoenix shifted on his perch, seeming to sense the Headmaster's melancholy. As if to cheer his Master up, the creature opened his beak, and let out a few notes. The song seemed to make every object in the room, including the Headmaster, glow with a shimmering golden light.

The Headmaster's shoulders relaxed as the song, short as it was, uplifted and energized him. "Thank you Fawkes," the Headmaster smiled with more vigour than before.

"I suppose it's time to begin on my paperwork. Perks of the job," he said with a wry look on his face. The fireplace flared to life as the Headmaster moved toward his desk. Hearing the fireplace, he quickly strode towards it, instead, and tapped his wand along to the mantle. The pattern of taps allowed the traveller through, and the wizard tumbled onto the floor.

"Severus, you've returned safely. Thank Merlin," the Headmaster bent to offer the younger wizard a hand up. With more strength than looked possible, the Headmaster pulled the Potion's Master off the floor. "Are you alright Severus? You look peaked."

"Sir…I have been with the Dark Lord, as you know. He is much changed from before," here Severus stopped, a confused look on his face. "Malfoy told me of the encounter he had with Potter in the graveyard, and from that account, the Dark Lord seemed just as obsessed with Potter as he was before his fall." Severus stopped again, his mouth working as he searched for words.

The Headmaster took the pause to push the clearly overwrought man into a plushy armchair. As soon as the younger man was seated, Albus snapped his fingers, and an elf appeared.

"Jibby is here, sirs. What can I be getting you? Do yous need breakfast?" the young elf asked quickly, looking between the two wizards.

"Good morning, Jibby. We would like some coffee, black, as well as some tea, please. Make it as quick as you can," the Headmaster ordered, a concerned look creasing his brows. When the elf popped out, he took another armchair and pulled a small table close to both of them.

"Alright, Severus. Let us begin again. Before you left, yesterday evening, you told me that a certain man had summoned you. After you arrived, what happened?" the Headmaster asked, his tone curious.

"Yes, when I arrived, it was on a cliff overlooking a sea. I had never been there, to my knowledge, nor was it anywhere He had summoned us before. After a few moments, Lucius apparated in, as well," the Potion's Master said. "The Dark Lord was silent and then began to explain that He had changed his strategies for this war. As he spoke, he led us to a door, just sitting there," the wizard stopped as a chiming sound announced the arrival of their coffee.

"I'll pour, Severus. A door you say, was it near anything?" the Headmaster asked, confused.

"No sir. The door was just floating there," Severus' face conveyed his continuing disbelief over the phenomenon. Despite living in the magical world for all his life, he had never seen anything like it. Judging by the Headmaster's face, he was dumbfounded as well. "He explained that the doorway was just a gateway, and said that from now, we would be using these doorways to meet. Sir, I have never seen anything like the place we travelled to. It seemed to be an archaic Roman home. All the rooms were full of jewels, gold, and all manner of magical artefacts. The Dark Lord took us the atrium, and instructed us in our tasks."

The Headmaster was reeling over the mention of using a gateway. He had not heard of any witch or wizard using one in more than a hundred years. _The wizarding world has changed very much since I was born. How curious that Tom seeks to revive those old magics._ Coming back to himself, he heard Severus continuing, "Lucius has been ordered to recruit political allies, rather than potential Death Eaters, leading me to assume that he plans to use more subtle methods, than full blown attacks. Of course, I have been ordered to watch you, the other teachers, and the students. He made no requests for any potions."

"Thank you Severus. I am glad that were able to return without any serious harm done to you. I will have to look into Voldemort's use of gateways," the Headmaster lifted his cup to drink, trying to cover his consternation, before continuing. "I must be honest; I am rather alarmed about his change in tactics. However, we must keep in mind that He has had almost fifteen years to think of plans, while we have been biding our time, hoping for the best."

Severus contemplated the Headmaster's words in silence, turning them over in his mind. "Headmaster, He never made any special mention of the Potter boy. I am not sure whether something occurred during their battle, that Lucius did not share, but the boy's safety is still a concern. He will return to him, soon enough, even if He has had fifteen years to rethink that night." Severus stopped there, thinking again, of how controlled his Lord had been. _Is this a prelude to how He will act in the future?_

Interrupting both wizards' thoughts, the fireplace flared green again. Dumbledore stood, chagrin standing out on his features.

"I'm sorry Severus; I did not realize that you and I had talked so long. I have another appointment to keep. Perhaps you should return to your quarters to get some rest while you can," the Headmaster said.

Severus stood, a little stiffly, and slightly irritated to see that the Headmaster still would not confide in him. _Doesn't matter. I should know by now, that I'm still only a Slytherin to him._ Aloud, he only said, "Of course, sir. I will see you tomorrow." Bowing, he left the room, quietly closing the heavy door after him.

_Messed that up again, _the Headmaster sighed to himself, as he tapped the mantle again. This time, another black haired wizard tumbled through the fire and onto the floor. This wizard, however, was much quicker to get up from his fall. Sirius Black was not smiling for once, as he greeted the venerable older man. His face was drawn into a somewhat guilty visage, instead.

"Good morning, Sirius. Thank you for being so prompt. What exactly is the matter, then?" the Headmaster asked, wondering why his former student looked so depressed.

"Harry…he sent me a letter, the day he returned to the Dursley's," Sirius mumbled, looking down at the carpet. "I brought it with me," he held the letter out to the Headmaster, and took one of the vacated seats. The animagus watched the Headmaster's face, only partially understanding the expressions crossing the man's face.

Dumbledore was in shock. _How was Lily's spell interacting with Harry's dreams? What other ways will her magic affect the boy, and how has it affected Tom?_ Dumbledore rolled the boy's letter up and took a seat. "I need some coffee Sirius, would you like me to pour you some as well?" the Headmaster asked, trying to stem the other wizard's questions.

"No, sir, I do not want any coffee, but I do have some questions," Sirius ground out, already irritated with the older man. _There he goes again. He had better give me some straight answers this time, and not push me off like last year._ "Sir, I know that you and I have avoided talking about certain things in the past, but this letter makes me believe that putting off those topics, is no longer an option."

Dumbledore sighed. "I understand, but before I explain my actions, I would like you to promise to allow me to finish before you ask anything. I'll even give you some paper and a quill," the Headmaster said, trying for humour. Sirius' grim, determined expression let him know that the attempt had fallen flat.

"Alright, well, the night James and Lily were killed, Severus came to me with a tale about Voldemort knowing the Potter's location. I assumed that it was likely too late, but I went with Minerva, Hagrid, and Severus to see what could be done. Of course, we came upon destruction… and little Harry. I took Harry with me to Hogwarts, and began trying to find the Potter will. You remember that before we performed the Fidelius, James and Lily wrote out another will. As I could not find the will that very evening, I had Hagrid take Harry to his Aunt's home. By then, you had been incarcerated, and Remus had hidden himself away."

Albus paused to take a sip of his coffee before taking a deep breath to continue, "I went to Gringotts the next day, to speak to the goblins about the Potter will. I was told that the will would be read, when the Potter heir came of age. Of course, I told them that it would be seventeen years before the will could be settled. However, they were obstinate that Harry must be of age, before the matter could be settled. So, I made it possible for Harry to stay with his maternal relatives."

Finished with his portion, Albus relaxed somewhat into his chair, wishing Fawkes would sing again. Sirius also sat back into his chair, a strange look coming over his face. _I wonder whether James convinced Lily…_

"Headmaster, you are a pureblood, yes?" Sirius asked slowly. The Headmaster nodded, "Your parents were very thorough in some areas of your education, weren't they Sirius," the Headmaster's tone made the words not a question.

Sirius smiled, but it was more of a pained grimace. "Of course they were, sir. They couldn't have an uneducated heir, but it didn't matter after all, now did it. But, I asked because James may have convinced Lily to invoke a very old concept. You remember the Council of Wizards, don't you, sir?" Sirius finished an expectant look on his face.

"…I do, yes. It would be a rather difficult thing to convince Lily to do, but I suppose that he was counting on you being around for Harry, in case they didn't make it," the Headmaster said, a distant look coming into his eyes.

"Yes, well, if he thought it would keep Harry safe, or at least put him into a position of power, James would not have hesitated. We both know that Harry would have more power to protect himself, if the Council were reinstated. Although, I can't help but be surprised at the idea. The Potter's were the family to break the tradition, after all," Sirius said a troubled look on his face.

_Putting Harry into that position would give him more power, but it would also make him even more of a target. What could they have been thinking? I suppose they trusted Sirius very much._ The Headmaster shifted in his chair, bringing a hand up to stroke his beard. "Sirius, I have something that I have been meaning to share with you, and with Harry."

"Before James and Lily put themselves under the Fidelius, I came to them about a prophecy I had heard regarding their son. The prophecy explained that Harry was fated to be targeted by the evil wizard of our times, and that neither he nor the wizard could live while the other survived. After they and I had discussed it, Lily asked that I not share the prophecy with anyone else; because she believed it would place too much responsibility on their family. I am sharing it with you now, because Voldemort has heard enough of the prophecy to make Harry his primary target in this war," Dumbledore concluded.

Sirius listened to the other man, hearing the truth in his words. "If that is the case, sir, then we should be telling Harry this. He's a brave kid; he doesn't need to be coddled. Especially after the events of the third task…"

"Given what I read in this letter, I believe that we will see some very different talents manifesting in Harry this year," the former teacher said with a sparkle in his eye. _Indeed, Lily was a very powerful witch, who knows what power she was able to pass to her son,_ Dumbledore thought to himself. "Sirius, we will have another meeting with others at the end of this week, perhaps you should meet with Harry before then and explain some of this to him."

"I think I will, though I'll write him first. I've kept him waiting long enough for a reply. Thank you, sir." Sirius rose from his chair, some of his bounce restored. _Well, I think Harry will be quite shocked with this one, but maybe it'll make him happy to know that his parents were looking out for him._ He stepped over the fireplace, and waved at the Headmaster, before throwing down floo powder and calling out 'The Burrow'.

The Headmaster watched another former student leave, a distant expression in his eyes. _Perhaps I should contact some of my old friends…_

_

* * *

_

While the Headmaster examined an old text about the Council of Wizards, Harry was standing outside wondering why it wouldn't rain. _I don't really mind taking care of the garden, but this weather is getting stupid. It should really just rain already. Oh well_, he thought to himself. Kneeling down, he took the end of the hose and dragged to the front of the house. The grass soaked up the water almost greedily after Harry began to spray it. After a few moments, his thoughts began to wander.

The letter from Gringotts had been shared with Hermione, and they had decided that both of them should attend the reading. Unfortunately, Hermione had exhausted her not small collection of books on wizarding traditions. She had suggested several times that they ask Sirius or Remus for help, but Harry had been obstinate about not writing either of them. He wanted Sirius to write back, before he communicated with his godfather again.

_I wish he would get back to me_, Harry thought wistfully before he noticed that the grass looked quite flooded. _Oops, guess I need to move on._ The day was slowly getting hotter, and drier, even though it still looked overcast. As the temperature rose, Harry mulled over the use he had gotten out of Hermione's gift. The small book had slowly filled with his thoughts, both sketches and written entries. The Dursley's had never encouraged Harry in any of his pursuits; so any talents Harry had besides magic, he kept firmly under wraps. He had never shared with anyone, besides Hermione, that he knew how to read music and how to draw, and occasionally wrote songs. The diary helped him explore those talents, and helped him work out his guilt over Cedric Diggory's death.

Though he had not dreamed of his mother again, he had relived the third task in his nightmares. Usually, Harry ended up writing them down, as well as any thoughts he had after waking up. He found that actually writing down how he felt was easier than bottling everything up. _Hermione's influence again, Ron'll think I've gone 'mental'_, Harry thought with a fond smile. As he worked, he failed to notice a shadow falling over him.

Something large gave Harry a firm shove, pushing him face first into the wet grass. "Hey freak," Dudley Dursley said, not a hint of remorse in his voice, "Mum's wanting you."

Pushing himself up quickly, Harry turned around sharply and gave his cousin a scorching look. "Whatever," Harry snapped, his peace interrupted. The irate boy stomped off toward the side of the house, dragging the hose back with him. _Stupid cousin, you'd think he could've just shouted at me._ Harry quickly coiled the hose and placed it on its hook before striding to the back door. At the door, he took off his shirt and shoes, and scrubbed his face with his hands, to get some of the mud off. _Useless_, he thought with irritation.

"Aunt Petunia, I'm in the back," he called as he stepped through the door. Petunia came up to him and immediately wrinkled her nose at his muddy pants and arms.

"I received a letter from one of your _you-know-what_ users," the woman hissed, her tone clearly conveying her annoyance. "They told me to clear out my family by three this afternoon, if I didn't want to see any _you-know-what_. I don't know what you ridiculous people will be doing, but everything had better be the same when we return. And take a shower, you nasty boy." With that, Harry's aunt turned away, her posture betraying how scandalized she was.

For his part, Harry was confused. Why were there wizards coming to Privet Drive? Sighing, he went to pick up his ratty old trainers and shirt, before taking his shower. _I guess I'll just have to see who shows up._

_

* * *

_

Harry stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes as he waited for three o'clock to come around. As he stared down at the dishes, he wondered again, who was coming by, and why they hadn't warned him. _I have my wand, and well… the kitchen is full of knives_, Harry thought, a smile playing around his lips. The doorbell rang at that moment, and Harry glanced at the clock. _Well they're prompt, aren't they?_

He walked to the front door, preparing to draw his wand if necessary. When he looked through the window on the side of the door, the man outside appeared to be Remus Lupin, accompanied by a large, black dog. Harry smiled and pulled the door open.

"Professor! Snuffles! What are you doing here?" Harry asked, completely surprised. _Maybe this is why they didn't write, they wanted to surprise me_, he thought happily.

"Hello, Harry. Might we come in? Padfoot and I have been looking forward to seeing you," Remus smiled at the diminutive young man. _He'll be growing faster soon, I hope_. Walking into the house, Harry closed the door behind them and watched as Sirius reversed his transformation.

"Watching you do that never gets old Sirius," Harry said, coming forward to embrace both men. "Why are you here? Did you get my letter? Do you know what's going on?" Harry asked, leading them toward the kitchen.

Taking seats around the table, Remus tried to answer first, "Yes, we both read your letter Harry, and after talking to Dumbledore about some issues, Sirius realized that your dream somehow represented something your father and mother did to their will."

At his answer, felt a little confused. _How did they know about the will reading? Maybe Gringotts owled them, as well._ "Oh, well… what do you think is going on then?"

Sirius took a deep breath and then began to explain everything he and Dumbledore had discussed that morning. As Harry listened, he felt increasingly anxious. _What am I supposed to do about all this? _


	2. Chapter 2

_What am I supposed to do about all this?_

* * *

Remus and Sirius looked at each other, and then back at Harry. His expression was completely blank, but his eyes were burning. Remus reached out a hand to touch the boy's arm. "Harry, I'm sorry we've sprung this on you without any warning. What are you thinking?"

For a moment, Harry kept silent, and then life seemed to return to his face. "I asked Dumbledore a long time ago if there was something special about me, if there was a reason why Voldemort was after me. He said that he couldn't tell me, and now I can't help but feel that it wasn't his decision to make. Voldemort's already made me his target, along with the rest of the world, and there was no reason to keep this prophecy away from me." Harry finished, with a bitter look on his face.

Remus spoke again, "It is likely that he didn't want to overburden a child, rather than strategically withholding information from you. But, besides the prophecy, Albus could not have guessed that your parents might choose to call for a Council of Wizards."

Sirius scooted around the table, next to Harry, and pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. "This, Harry, is something that your dad gave to me before they went into hiding. When he gave it to me, I had no idea what to do with it. The book talks about the history of the Council, and the role of the Potter family in it. All I can tell is what I know from my family's perspective, and you will need more than that. Especially if their will talks about you becoming a member and you actually decide to go along with it."

Sirius slid his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him close. "Look Harry, I know this is overwhelming, but you just have to remember that they were not trying to force you into anything. They made it possible for you to be completely independent of the Ministry of Magic's rules, just in case the Ministry turned out useless or corrupt. I will tell you everything I know, and so will Moony and the Headmaster. The Weasleys might even be able to help; they have a seat on the Council, as well."

Harry sighed, and leaned a little closer to his godfather. _At the very least, I guess I'll have to consider it. It might even be a good thing, though I can't imagine trying to lord over anybody, especially not people more than twice my age._ "I guess I have stuff to tell you all, don't I?" Harry said, rhetorically.

"I wrote you about my dream, and I wrote to Hermione about it too. We've been looking up love magic and blood magic, but neither of us has been able to find anything. And... I got a letter from Gringotts," Harry stopped, suddenly apprehensive. _What if they're mad that I didn't write them about that too? So much came about because of my last letter, what if I've missed something, just writing to Hermione._

"Go on, Harry," Remus urged him.

"Yes, err...the letter said that there will be a will reading next Tuesday. I am allowed to bring a witness with me. Did either of you get a letter from the goblins then?" Harry looked at both of them, an eyebrow raised expectantly. However, their faces were shocked, rather than aware.

"Sirius, I suppose you were right. James and Lily chose to write the option into their will. The goblins must have known about it, and wanted to keep outside parties from interfering in the process," Remus paused there, disbelief still etched on his features. _Harry will have a lot more on his shoulders from now on, if he decides to go through with all this_, Remus thought.

"Well Harry, I suppose we have a lot to tell you about the Council of Wizards, don't we," Sirius looked at his best friend, and the boy he considered his son. _I suppose there is never any escaping our past._ He continued, "Way back, before the Ministry even existed, twenty-three clans from all over this land came together and decided that Hogwarts was not enough to control the growing magical population. They decided that they needed a central form of government, so that the appearance of Muggleborns would stop inciting the Muggles' witch hunts."

"The most interesting idea behind the council of wizards was that no one member had any more power than the other. The all used a voting system to choose who would preside over a session, but they had no leader. I suppose the wizards of the time were too independent to really follow anyone, besides a family leader," Sirius continued recounting the history of the Council, while Harry absorbed more about magical history than he ever had in Binns' class.

Remus took over telling Harry about the Council, as Sirius exhausted all his knowledge about the ancient history. "So, Harry, the CoW existed alone, until Muggleborns began to demand a say in government. They believed that having only pureblooded wizards in power would not take care of their needs. They were likely correct, and the Ministry was created. Over time, the Ministry grew in power, until it rivalled the power of the Council. At that point, the Wizengamot and the Council met together to decide what role each government would play in the future. They decided that the Council of Wizards would create laws only for the original twenty-three families, while the Ministry of Magic would serve the rest of the population."

Harry interrupted, "What? That isn't fair, why should there be different rules depending on what kind of family you have?" The boy was indignant, and looked to be considering throwing the whole idea out.

"Yes, I know, it was quite unfair," Remus said quietly as he continued, "However, the Potter clan leader at that time decided his family would not participate in the blatant favouritism shown to pureblooded wizards. He removed his family from the Council, effectively rendering it useless. In doing so, he gave the Ministry the power it has today."

"Then how is it a good thing that my dad decided to make it possible for me to restart the whole thing?" Harry asked a thoughtful frown on his face.

Sirius answered this time, "It is a good thing, Harry, because there was another provision made for Council members. They were also given seats on the Wizengamot, in addition to being on their own Council. This would give you ability to be a part of lawmaking, rather than a bystander."

Harry leaned away from Sirius, contemplating everything they had discussed. "Alright, well, I guess I still need to go to Gringotts next week. They said that they were sending me a portkey, so I want Hermione to be able to come over here so we can take it together. Does that sound alright?"

The two men nodded at the young man before them. As Remus opened his mouth to speak, Sirius looked at the clock and interrupted, "It's six already Moony, we need to be going."

Harry looked up as well, realizing that the Dursleys would be back soon. Standing up he began to lead them to the door, saying, "I'll write you again Remus, so we can work out all the details."

Before transforming, Sirius reached over and pulled Harry into rough hug. That done, he quickly turned into a dog, watched Remus open the door, and then bounded out.

* * *

Shortly after Remus and Sirius apparated away, Harry saw the Dursley's driving up the lane and pulling into the car park. He sighed as he watched them climb out of the car. He could tell from Uncle Vernon's face that he was in for a rough night. _This doesn't look good for me_. _He's probably ticked off about Aunt Petunia and Dudders being kicked out of the house. _His eyes narrowed as he thought about how to head off the coming storm. Moving to take a seat at the kitchen table, Harry pulled out his wand and tried to look relaxed.

In the next moment, he heard the front door slam open and his uncle's voice already rising in irritation. "That idiot boy, bringing those you-know-what's into the house. Where is he?"

"Potter! Get down here! Now!"

Harry didn't move. This time he and his relatives were going to have a calm, rational talk. After all, it seemed like he might have more to do this summer than be their personal house-wizard. As he waited for his Aunt and Uncle to look everywhere but the kitchen, Harry took a deep breath. _If I can't handle the Dursley's, then I'll never be able to handle being in charge of a bunch of wizards._

Finally, the door to the kitchen opened revealing all three of his relatives staring at him. Harry stood and waved his hand to beckon them into the room. "I'm sorry about earlier Aunt Petunia. They just wanted everyone to leave so that they wouldn't scare you." Harry spoke quietly, falling back on his former manners with the Dursley's in an attempt to calm them down.

His Aunt sniffed and spoke disdainfully, "I am not afraid of their unnaturalness. I just don't want it anywhere near my house. You're enough as it is," she paused, trying to keep a curious look off her face. "What did they want?"

"They needed to tell me stuff that my Mum and Dad put in their will," Harry said in a flat voice. He sat down again, before continuing, "I'll need to go to London in a few days, there are some things I need to take care of, and I'll need to have a couple of people coming in and out the house too."

"You mean those stupid parents of yours actually had something to leave you in their will?" Dudley asked rudely, a malicious smirk on his face. "I thought Mum said that they were good for nothing drunkards." Dudley walked to a seat at the kitchen table and sat down heavily. His eyes watched Harry's face the whole time, looking for an opening.

Instead of responding, Harry picked up his wand and began to twirl it between his fingers. _Remember Potter, if you can't handle your relatives, how will you handle the rest of the world._

"Whatever you say Dudley," Harry only spared his cousin a brief glare before turning to face his Aunt and Uncle. "I know this will probably be a pain for you, but I need to have a friend come over next week. They won't be here for long...," he trailed off to survey his Uncle's face. Predictably, Vernon had begun to turn a deep red. Heaving a deep breath, Vernon dropped into a chair.

"So after all these years, you're finally going to pay us back. I think you owe us quite a bit of money. Taking care of your sorry arse, feeding you, sending you to school, putting clothes on your back. I expect to get half of whatever your fool parents left you, Potter." By the end of his speech, Vernon's colour had faded back to his normal pasty white, and on his pudgy face, he wore a smooth smirk.

_What the hell did I do to deserve this_, Harry briefly mused, trying to avoid getting angry. His eyes flicked over this his Aunt standing frozen behind Vernon's shoulder. _Looks like Aunt Petunia doesn't know what to think_. Breathing slowly through his nose, Harry decided to channel a bit of Lucius Malfoy. _That bastard looks like he always gets what he wants, and he probably never has to raise his voice to get it._

Leaning back in his chair, Harry began to speak, "I understand what you're trying to say Uncle Vernon. There's just a small problem. Not only is my inheritance non-monetary, it's strictly magical. And I know how much you love magic, right Uncle? But for all that, I wouldn't want to the curses on my inheritance to turn you into a pig," Harry smiled sweetly at his cousin before turning back to his Uncle. "Besides, my godfather... the mass murderer, will be coming with me to the will reading. You wouldn't want to meet him, would you?"

Looking at the faces of his relatives, Harry decided to let them stew for a bit. Pushing back his chair, he rose and gave his still frozen Aunt a tight smile before moving into the entrance way. Rolling his shoulders, Harry felt the tension of the past moment slip away. _Mission scare Uncle into compliance accomplished_. Walking toward the stairs to go up to his room, he realized that he had yet to call Hermione. Picking up the phone, he quickly dialled her number.

After a few rings, an older male voice picked up. "Granger residence."

"Hello. Could I speak to Hermione, please?" Harry spoke quietly, trying not to attract his relative's attention. After a few moments, he realized the other had yet to respond. "Hello?" he asked again.

"Sorry. Yes, I'll get her. Who is calling?"

"Harry Potter," he murmured, wondering why the other man sounded so odd.

"Ah. Of course! Just a minute." Rustling came through the receiver and in the background, Harry heard muted thumping.

"Harry! You called me! Is everything alright?" Hermione managed to sound both worried and pleased.

"Of course. I just wanted to ask what time you'd be able to come on Tuesday. And was that your dad?" Harry asked.

"Oh... yes it was. No one has asked to speak to me before and certainly not a boy. He was probably confused," Hermione sounded a bit embarrassed, so Harry decided not to waste any time teasing her.

"Well, tell him I say hello, and be sure to ask if you can be here around four. Sirius came by and told me that the Goblins will likely set to the portkey to go off at four-thirty."

"It should be fine. Are you sure you don't want me to bring you a suit?" her tone started to lean toward scolding, but Harry cut her off quickly.

"Yes. I'll just wear my dress robes from the ball. Now, I have to go. I hear my Aunt coming out. See you Tuesday." With that, Harry swiftly set down the phone and bounded up the stairs to his room.

* * *

"How was he, Sirius?" the Headmaster asked.

The man in question stopped his contemplation of the ceiling and realized that the entire room had fallen silent in the wake of the Headmaster's question.

"He's fine, sir. Let's get on with it," Sirius frowned slightly and gave Dumbledore a sharp glance. Glancing around the room, Sirius saw that the curious expressions on everyone's faces had yet to disappear. Sighing deeply he elaborated, "Harry's relatives are treating him as well as can be expected, Headmaster, and he's looking forward to visiting some friends." Staring pointedly at the Headmaster, Sirius subsided into silence.

Blinking innocently, Albus turned to the rest of the room to continue the meeting. "We must remember to thank our colleague for his hospitality, and Molly Weasley for her wonderful cooking, but perhaps afterwards. For now, I must introduce a topic of the greatest concern. It has come to my attention that Voldemort has begun setting his plans into motion. To counter his efforts, I've concluded that we must begin to recruit new members. On this topic, I yield to Alastor Moody." Sweeping his arm to the left, Albus bowed slightly and sat.

The man who clunked out of the shadows of the Black Family library, swept the room with a severe look, his fake eye rolling madly all the while. "You-Know-Who is alive and well. We all remember how it was before, and how we fought him and his Death Eaters last time. We can't afford to be caught off our guard again. Before he can get a good foothold in the Ministry or any of the key industries, we must start recruiting members for the Order."

Soft whispering began among the inhabitants of the library. Glancing at Dumbledore, Moody raised his voice above the murmurs, "We know you must think this is a security breach, but we must have people on our side before He gets to them and their families." Both eyes focused now, Moody looked at each person in turn. "Constant vigilance will only get us so far. We must be able to fight. Start evaluating your family members, your co-workers, and anyone trustworthy you know that can work as a team." Snorting sharply through his nose, the old Auror retreated into the shadows, grumbling almost inaudibly.

Seeing the disturbed looks on the faces of the Order, Dumbledore rose to speak again, "I know that Alastor has given us all much to think upon. In the interest of time, I would like you all to go down to the kitchen to enjoy Molly's cooking. While you eat, think over who you might be able to enlist. I will be in contact with each of you to discuss your choices," smiling genially, he waved them out of the library.

As they filed out, Dumbledore caught the eye of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sirius Black. Waving them into two sleek leather armchairs, he began to explain holding them back. "Kingsley, Sirius, I'd like to speak with you about some related issues. As you know, Severus chose to spy on Lord Voldemort for us. Thus far, He has revealed very little besides political ambition," running his hands over his beard, the look on Dumbledore's face hardened. "However, these ambitions coincide strangely with other news we have received." Gesturing at Sirius, Albus indicated that the younger man should take up the story.

Frowning slightly, Sirius smoothed his hands over the worn leather of the library chair. _Dumbledore plays pretty close to the chest, but is always more than willing to share what should be Harry's business only. _"Headmaster, I'm not sure it we should be spreading knowledge about this so swiftly. He hasn't even been to the will reading yet." Glancing swiftly at Kingsley, he shot the Auror an apologetic look, before shifting his gaze back to Dumbledore.

"Believe me Sirius, I have no intention of sharing any of this with anyone outside this room," Dumbledore sat back to wait. Watching the shifting emotions on his former student's face, he was certain that Sirius would relent.

Proving that the Headmaster's influence over him had not yet waned, Sirius began to speak, "Harry has been informed that he is a member of the Council of Wizards. James' and Lily's will reading is in six days," Sirius spoke as though the words were being pulled out. "I'll be attending with him, and one of his friends."

"Council of Wizards," Shacklebolt murmured, "You-Know-Who will want to take advantaged of that, no doubt at all." Jumping up from his seat, Kingsley began to pace around the bookshelves before stopping in front of Sirius.

"Are you going to tell Potter that he should do this, Black? You-Know-Who is going to find a way to take control of the CoW, and then we'll have a green boy stuck in a situation he can't handle," Kingsley's voice was deeply contemptuous.

Feeling attacked, Sirius jumped to this feet, shoving the other man slightly. "I don't know what to tell him to do," he snapped, "but that 'green boy' is supposedly our saviour. So I'll do what it takes to keep him safe." Breathing roughly through his nose, Sirius backed away and shot Dumbledore a sharp glare.

"So what is your advice Headmaster?" Sirius barked, waiting to see if he would support Kingsley's view.

"I believe that young Mr. Potter will need much guidance and support, whether he chooses to join the council or not." Tenting his fingers under his nose, Dumbledore peered thoughtfully at both men, "Sit down both of you, and we shall work out how to handle Mr. Potter's majority."

* * *

The boy in question was regretting turning down Hermione's offer. _I should know by now that she's usually got the right of it._ The green dress robes, suitable for a ball, did not fit with Harry's perception of what was acceptable to wear to a meeting. Roughly peeling the layers of clothing off, he walked out of the bathroom wondering if Hermione still had time to rent a suit. _At this rate, I'll have to wear my Hogwarts uniform_.

Moving silently down the stairs, Harry marvelled at his relatives overwhelming dislike of anything abnormal. _Just telling them that a friends was coming over was enough to make them clear out, two whole days before she even arrived._ He sighed and glanced up at the front windows. From his limited vantage point, he saw no cars pulling into the drive. _Why isn't anyone here yet?_ Straightening up from his place on the wall, he rocked back and forth for a moment, then watched, pleased, as a sleek, black dog loped from the direction of Mrs. Figgs house. Yanking the door open quickly, he began to smile as he saw a car slow to a stop in front of Number 4. Stepping aside, Harry watched the animagus run straight toward the pristine kitchen. Turning back to the door, he was nearly tumbled over by the strength of Hermione's hug.

"Harry!" Hermione greeted him enthusiastically. Automatically, Harry smiled even wider and moved to return the tight hug. Releasing each other, Hermione turned around and waved to a couple waiting out by the curb. Clearly, they had been waiting for this signal. The woman blew Hermione a kiss and then both slid into their car and drove away.

Ushering Hermione into the front hall, Harry looked askance at his friend.

"Mum and Dad were waiting to be sure that it was you who answered the door, not your Uncle," she grimaced, thinking of the greeting she would have received instead.

Nodding, Harry turned to watch Sirius complete his transformation. His godfather was dressed in well-fitting robes, and had even pulled his hair back with a leather tie. "Looking at the both of you, I can see that I should have taken Hermione up on her offer to rent a suit," he said, sighing softly.

Smiling kindly, Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed firmly. "Don't worry about it Harry. I've brought you some robes to wear, and you can just wear your Hogwarts uniform shirt and slacks under it." Pushing Harry toward the stairs, he placed a package in his hands. "Go change, then come back down and we'll be set to go to the reading."

As Harry skipped up the stairs, Sirius turned to Hermione. "Let's go sit in the kitchen while we wait. It's good to see you again Hermione, and I'm glad to see you're still sticking by my godson. You two make, and Ron of course, make a good team." Slipping into a chair, he watched her turn over his words for a moment.

"After this ridiculous mess with the tournament, I think we'll be even better friends. Harry knows we care about him," Hermione replied staunchly. "After all we've been through, the least I could do is go to a will reading with him."

Smiling brightly, Sirius dropped his expressionless demeanour, "You're a smart girl Hermione. I'm sorry if it seemed as though I were testing you, but Harry will be under quite a lot of stress soon, and I'm already worried. Keep looking out for him," he finished. Silence stretched between them for a moment, as they waited for the sound of Harry's footsteps. _As Harry's godfather, technically Sirius is responsible for Harry's care. It must be very hard for him._ Looking closely, Hermione could see the dark circles under his eyes and the beginnings of grey hair. A soft click roused her from her examination.

Harry walked softly back into the kitchen, a miniature horseshoe held lightly in his grasp. Hermione rose and grasped him gently by the shoulders.

"Are you doing alright Harry? You haven't written in a while," she said thoughtfully, her eyes taking in his condition. Her eyes flicked quickly over his clothes, but returned to his as he breathed another deep sigh.

"I've been better Hermione," he spoke with a deep frown creasing his forehead, "but I'm ready to see what my parents have to say. Taking a minute step back from the girl, he looked over at his godfather.

"Are you going travel as a dog, Sirius?" He asked, as the other man walked around the table and took hold of the horseshoe.

"No. I'm sure the goblins would probably not appreciate an animal arriving in one of their conference rooms," Sirius' voice was light, but his eyes were leaden and withdrawn. _I'm not ready to hear their voices again, and have yet another reminder of how I failed them and their son. _

Glancing at each other briefly, they all looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. The hands moved slowly toward four-thirty. Before they could draw another breath to prepare themselves, the magic took hold and they were gone.

* * *

Swirling swiftly, they quickly landed in an anteroom decorated with the Gringotts sigil. Hermione laughed under her breath at Harry's amazed look.

"I can't believe it either Harry. We managed to land on our feet this time," she smiled widely before releasing the portkey and moving toward the doors at the other end of the room.

Sirius pocketed the portkey and gathered Harry into a one-armed squeeze.

"It'll be alright lad. Just remember that this is all to help you," Sirius smiled a bit as Harry wrapped one arm around him as well.

Heaving a sigh, the boy replied, "I know, and I'm ready. It's just been a very long year already, and the stakes keep going up. It feels like this is never going to end." Sighing he stepped away to catch up to Hermione. He jerked his head toward the door, "Come on, let's have this over with."

Walking through the doors together, he realized that the bank representatives were waiting for them in a larger conference room. Facing them, seated a mahogany, circular table, was a particularly fierce looking Goblin. Seated on straight-back, wooden chairs pressed against the right wall were two humans wearing plain black robes.

_Solicitors?_ Harry thought, before realizing the Goblin was addressing him.

"...We are pleased that you have arrived promptly, Mr. Potter. You and your companions may be seated at the table," the Goblin directed them without rising from his chair.

The meeting commenced without any further preamble. "We have prepared the documents as instructed by the will of James Potter and Lily Evans-Potter. If you will please state your name and swear the oath as instructed, we can begin without delay."

The Goblin pushed a short piece of parchment toward his end of the table. All three of them sat quickly and leaned over Harry's shoulders to read the document. Realizing that it was nothing more than a statement to ensure that he was actually Harry Potter, he quickly signed and read aloud, "On my magic, I so swear that I am the only child of James Potter and Lily Evans-Potter."

Looking curiously around, Harry had expected some sort of flash of light to signify that he had sworn an oath on his magic. There was no sign of acknowledgment, but as he looked askance at the Gringotts goblin, he saw the Goblin nodding sharply.

"Excellent, we may proceed," turning his head to the two humans, he barked, "Bring the documents."

They swiftly rose and placed two rolls of parchment on the table. One man unrolled each parchment while the other weighed down the ends with small pieces of obsidian. The Goblin gestured both of them away with a dismissive wave, and tapped a claw to the parchment on the left.

Sharp light emanated from the document, before diminishing to a less eye-watering level.

The voice of Harry's father sounded, "I revoke all former wills and other testamentary dispositions made by me. I appoint _Ragnfast_ of London Gringotts and _Arthur_ of Smethwyck and Sons to be the executors and trustees of this will."

Glancing up at the Goblin and two humans, Harry received brief nods from both. _ So those are the solicitors hired by my Mum and Dad? I suppose that must be Ragnfast too._

The voice continued unemotionally, "I appoint Sirius Black of the House of Black to be the guardian of my child until his majority at the age of 17, at the date of my death, and I direct that my child shall be brought up in accordance with our traditions. In the case of my appointed guardian being unable to uphold his duties, I instruct that my child become an emancipated minor at the age of 15. He shall be able to claim of the rights and responsibilities of the leadership of the House of Potter.

Listening intently, Harry was acutely aware of his godfather slowly tensing up as the instructions in the will continued. Leaning over slightly, he bumped Sirius with his shoulder. He continued listening, as he felt the older man relax slightly.

"If my child does not survive me by thirty days, he shall be treated for the purposes of this will as though he had died before me. In which case, all of my property and assets are to be donated to Hogwarts."

Realizing that the light coming from the parchment was dimming, Harry sought to commit his father's voice to memory. Emotionless as it was, it was better than the memory of his struggle in the graveyard against Voldemort.

"My Trustees may at any time use the moneys my estate to advance, maintain, or educate my beneficiary. Signed by James Potter in the presence of Lily Evans-Potter on this date October the 15th in the year 1981."

* * *

The will was finished. Dry though it was, Harry realized that his parents had given him the ultimate birthday present. _Freedom from the Dursley's. What a wonderful way to start being fifteen. _He glanced to the side to look at Hermione, who was looking deeply thoughtful, a crease between her brows and her arms crossed. Realizing she was being watched, she mouthed 'later', and returned to staring at the parchment.

Sighing deeply, Harry watched Ragnfast, produce a small, hinged wooden box from a pocket. Placing the box on the table, he withdrew two keys and a silvery chain. He pushed his chair back from the table and stood. The others rose as well, unsure of the next step.

The Goblin spoke, "I condole you on your loss, and congratulate you on achieving your majority. The will reading is concluded, but we have further business to discuss. Please follow me."

Sirius grasped the two teens by the shoulder for a moment, and leaned down to whisper, "I'll be Padfoot from now until we return to Harry's house, alright."

Transforming into the Grim, he nudged Harry and Hermione after the Goblin. They quick-stepped to keep up and followed Ragnfast to the entrance to the vaults. Climbing into a cart, and squishing themselves to make room for the overlarge dog, they were quiet on the ride down to the vault.

At some point, Harry realized that they were on a level much lower than his normal vault, and shouted to the Goblin, "Which vault are we going to, sir!"

Ragnfast did not deign to answer, but shortly after the question, the cart slowed to a stop. The animagus leapt out first and waited in front of the vault for the two teenagers and Goblin to make their way onto the platform.

They watched as the Goblin stepped close to the vault door, and stroked a claw gently down the door. Speaking a sharp word in Gobbledygook, Ragnfast stepped back as the locks on the door disengaged. A small door appeared, and the Goblin gestured Harry forward.

"You can allow the others into the vault if you wish, Mr. Potter," Ragnfast waited for the humans to file in before following them.

Harry eyes flicked almost wildly over the contents. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione gravitate toward what seemed to be a rather large collection of books. _Of course_, he thought with some humour. Following her, he was caught by a large tome that Hermione had not noticed. The book was on the floor and appeared to be untitled. He bent to pick it up, and heard a step behind him. He looked over his shoulder and found Ragnfast and his godfather back in human form.

"Sirius? What's up?" Harry asked, the expression on his godfather's face was a confusing mix of joy and sadness.

"Relax Harry. I believe that that is your family Grimoire. The Potter Book of Spells," Sirius glanced down at the Goblin for a moment, and gave him a considering look. "Remus and I had thought that the book had been stolen or lost when Godric's Hollow was destroyed. To find it here is amazing, and good news for you."

"Of course it wasn't destroyed Mr. Black. You must give Gringotts more credit than that," the Goblin stated, "we knew the moment that the Mr. Potter's parents died, and were able to bring the most important heirloom back to this vault." Ragnfast paused for a moment, before continuing smugly, "After all, we value your business."

Snorting softly, Harry decided that Goblin's words were probably an understatement. If his father was willing to have Ragnfast as a trustee and executor of his will, then he probably trusted the Goblin with quite a bit more than his money.

"I think I'll be taking this back with me tonight. May as well see what my ancestors were getting up to."


	3. Chapter 3

Taking the Grimoire back to Privet Drive proved to be a much more complicated process than expected. Ragnfast hustled the group back to the cart as he saw they were more interested in the book than anything else. As he closed the vault door behind them, he spoke to Harry, "Young wizard, you may come down to this vault anytime you wish. Simply remember to ask for me at the teller's desk."

Harry nodded in reply and climbed into the cart after Snuffles and Hermione. With the Goblin at the helm, the ride back to the surface was even faster up than it had been going down. Emerging into the artificial brightness of the lobby made the eyes water, and when Harry had blinked enough to clear them, he realized that there seemed to be some sort of fight going on.

Feeling a slight breeze, Harry looked down to see Ragnfast racing toward the mass of people milling about. He started shouting orders to the tellers. Within moments, oddly tall Goblins in armour and carrying staves were rushing toward the great doors leading to Diagon Alley. Above the din of wizards and witches trying to escape the chaos, Harry could hear what seemed to be a small group of wizards shouting a slogan.

"Fair trade for all! Fair trade for all!" The chants were abruptly cut off as the Goblin guards arrived at the door. The protestors were pushed out through sheer brute force. Feeling a tug on his pants leg, he looked down to see Snuffles trying to pull him backward.

Shaking himself slightly, Harry touched Hermione on the shoulder. She was as engrossed as he had been in watching the masses of people. Turning, they walked quickly back into the entrance to the vaults. Digging into her bag, Hermione pulled out the horseshoe portkey that had brought them to the bank. Glancing at her watch, she nodded at Sirius who reversed his Animagus transformation. Sirius and Harry placed a finger on the horseshoe at the same time. As they did, bright light flashed, and they felt themselves swirling through the air.

Moments later, they landed and Harry stumbled away. _I'll be having nightmares all week after using the Portkey today_, he mused. Looking around the kitchen, he realized that it was quite late, but the house felt silent.

"The Dursleys must not be home yet," he said quietly, dropping into a chair. Sirius and Hermione joined him at the table. Looking at both of the teenagers sombrely for a moment, Sirius launched into an explanation about all of the confusion they'd encountered at the bank.

"I doubt either of you is aware of this, being stuck at Hogwarts most of the year. There is serious discrimination against many of the most important members of our society. Obviously, the squibs face serious difficulty in living in the magical world and many of them choose to live as Muggles. But those who do stay are usually farmers or craftsmen."

"Sounds feudal to me," Hermione grumbled lowly. Harry glanced at her, mouthing the word _spew_, and she subsided, huffing a laugh.

Sirius smirked at the byplay and continued, "Well feudal is a good word or maybe even medieval, but that is how it has been for a very long time. Since the beginning of the year, there've been protests in front of the Ministry, _in_ the Ministry, and in most of the major shopping areas. Farmers and craftsmen, if they're not farming the land of some particular families or if their services aren't retained by some of those same families, deal with fines, fees, and high taxes," Sirius frowned and tilted his head to look at Harry directly.

"There have been riots, like I said, but never in any of the Gringotts branches. They're very desperate for change. With all of the unrest due to Voldemort, people have started hoarding their money, rather than spending. It makes it tougher for everyone, but especially those protesting." Seeing the young faces before growing tighter with worry, Sirius sighed.

"If I joined this Council thing, would I be able to make it better?" Harry asked softly, his hands gripped tightly before him.

"I don't know what to tell you. You might be able to make a difference, but you'll have to fight against purebloods who want to maintain the status quo."

Hermione spoke up sharply, "What Council?"

Harry rubbed his hands through his hair furiously for a moment before trying to explain briefly.

"My dad's family used to be part of this group, organization," he trailed off, unsure how to make it clear.

"It was like the Wizengamot," Sirius said for him, "but the Council of Wizards was only for twenty-four families."

"And they're all purebloods," Hermione concluded thoughtfully.

"As usual, you've got the right of it Hermione. That's why they wrote into their will that I could be emancipated when I turn fifteen. And when Sirius and Remus came by the other day, they told me a lot about it. I haven't decided if I want to do it yet," his words trailed off softly. _This is all so confusing. Why can't I just be like everyone else and only have to worry about school?_

Hermione did not reply, and Sirius saw that both of them had fallen into thought.

"Why don't I take Hermione home, and then I'll come back and we can talk more. Alright Harry?" Sirius asked. Seeing the boy smile briefly in acknowledgment, he addressed Hermione.

"Ready?"

She gave Harry's hands a quick squeeze, then stood and nodded to the older man.

With a distinct _Pop_, they were gone.

* * *

Three sharp knocks. Then two more. A short pause, then a woman's low voice called out, "Enter." Kingsley opened the door and came to attention in front of his superior's desk. As always, the glint of her monocle distracted his attention for a moment, though they both knew that she had no need for glasses, the simple motion allowed her a second to evaluate her opponent.

And it was definitely a battle when talking to Amelia Bones. Through both the requirements of her position as Director of Magical Law Enforcement and her own ability to form networks and connections with people, Amelia had a finger on all of the issues currently facing the Ministry and the larger magical community. Despite that, Kingsley knew that Amelia was fair, and would probably hear out his proposal. After all, Amelia's first concern is always and will always be protection of our country. She couldn't possibly find something wrong with my membership in Dumbledore's organization.

"Good morning Mr. Shacklebolt," Amelia's voice was always distant and precise. She eyed him for a moment and settled back in her chair. "Sit. What brings you to see me?"

Inhaling deeply, almost imperceptibly, "I'd like to discuss a proposal with you Ma'am. It involves the recent events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament." Seeing her wave him into a chair, he chose the one closest to the desk before proceeding, "As you know, Harry Potter claimed that he saw a ritual that raised the Dark Lord, and duelled him before escaping back to Hogwarts. I have reason to believe that the young man is correct, and that the stance of the Ministry needs changing." He paused at the look on the other's face.

"You must be quite sure of yourself, Mr. Shacklebolt. However, I believe we have a different matter to discuss first." Peering at him, she saw his expression change slightly.

"Yes. I'm referring to the protest this afternoon. We've received complaints from the Gringotts Board of Directors about the lack of Auror presence in Diagon Alley and around the bank in particular. I am aware that you are not responsible for Diagon's security, but I would like your thoughts."

She waited as he gathered himself, feeling inwardly pleased. _So Dumbledore is finally ready to make his move and he comes to me first._

"Ma'am, I believe that the majority of the Aurors currently on the Diagon Alley force are of a certain mindset. Guarding the bank is not their first priority. If you will allow me to say so, most of them are not engaged in their duties to guard the citizens at all. To me, it seems that they feel guarding something as mundane as a shopping area is a waste of their skills."

"What would you suggest?" the director replied, the question sharp, but not dismissive.

Sighing briefly, "I suggest that we share with them the truth about the Tri-wizard Tournament, Ma'am. If we do, it's likely that they'll be much more invested in their assignments."

"You are stubborn Mr. Shacklebolt," she chuckled briefly, crossing her arms on the desk. She leaned forward slightly, "Well then. If we inform our Aurors of His return, then what? Do we offer more training? Do we recruit more? Do we inform the general public?"

"We can do none of these without the Minister's approval. Do you have a method for obtaining that approval? I have tried, and failed thus far."

Watching his superior speak, Kingsley felt her frustration. Normally, it was carefully hidden. _She must be as annoyed with Fudge as the rest of us are. Bones actually has it worse; she has to deal with him directly_.

Speaking slowly, he replied, "Ma'am, like you say, petitioning the Minister will get us nowhere. That's why I've come to see you," he paused looking at her carefully.

"I think that Mr. Potter is the Joker in our deck," he continued, laying out the particulars of the matter as he'd discussed with Dumbledore.

At the end of the recital, Amelia uncrossed her arms and pushed herself straight. The idea that Harry Potter could bring about such a sweeping change was intoxicating. _He's the same age as my Susan, no less._ A long time member of the Wizengamot and as a Department Head in the Ministry she knew that the government was full of yawning pits of idiots, seeming to wait for a chance to mess things up. _If using this Council will get rid of the fools, I might just be willing to meet with Dumbledore after all_.

* * *

On Privet Drive, a shaggy black dog approached the back door of the house marked Number 4. With the exception of a light on one of the second story windows, the house was completely dark. _Alright with me, makes it easier to escape notice._ Reversing his transformation, he stood as close to the door as possible and knocked sharply.

Within moments, he heard feet pounding on the other side of the door. It opened abruptly, and Harry looked out at him.

"Come in," he said quietly, backing away from the door. Sirius followed his godson in and closed the door firmly behind him.

"Have you been alright?" he asked, setting a hand on the boy's shoulder. _He's really got to eat more. He's terribly thin._

"I'm fine Sirius," Harry replied shortly. "Actually, I've been trying to open this stupid Grimoire but nothing's happening. He looked up sharply at the sound of his godfather snorting.

"Oi. What are you laughing for?"

"I just didn't think that was what you were going to say. Take me to it, I'll show you," he said trying to keep his snickers under control.

Leading his godfather to the kitchen table, Harry lifted the tome with two hands and pushed it toward the older man. Sitting in one of the chairs, Harry looked up at him expectantly.

"You didn't think this one was going to open like that book you had in third year did you? What was it, the _Monster Book of Monsters_, or some such?" he asked, grinning down at the boy.

"I did think of trying that after I couldn't get it open," Harry replied, "but then I thought how ridiculous that would be."

"It is a bit ridiculous, but the principle between that book and this one is much the same. The magic of book needs to be assured of your intentions. Hagrid's textbook wanted to be petted, strange though that is, and this one needs blood."

"Err. Are you sure?" Harry asked feeling bewildered. "A lot?"

"Yes I'm sure, and just a prick will do it," he smiled again; "there's plenty of knives in the kitchen so just grab one and poke your finger with it. Put the finger on the cover of the Grimoire and you're done."

Standing to find a knife in one of the drawers, Harry missed the serious expression that settled on his godfather's face.

"When you're ready, go ahead," Sirius said softly, watching the boy sink into the chair across from him.

Pursing his lips, Harry quickly stabbed the little knife into the pad of his thumb. Blood welled up immediately. Pulling the book toward him once more, he quickly smeared his thumb down the cover.

The book opened with a snap. Harry looked over at Sirius wondering if there was anything more. Seeing his godfather nod, he wrapped his thumb in a napkin and set down the knife. Pulling the book toward him, he settled back to read.


	4. Chapter 4

Within a few minutes of reading, Harry found himself completely lost. Glancing over at his Godfather, he found the older man looking at him contemplatively.

"Err, Sirius, is something the matter?" Harry asked haltingly.

"Not at all Harry. I was just thinking that you look more like your mother every time I see you. It's little odd considering how much you resembled James just a year ago," Sirius smiled gently and changed the subject.

"Confused already?" he asked pointing at the book.

"Not confused really, I just feel like I need an old English translation guide or something. It's almost gibberish. All of the words have this wild spelling," placing the book flat on the table, Harry pointed out one of the offenders, "This is crazy. I'm guessing that this is 'land' but it's written 'tir'." Harry pulled the book back a bit as his Godfather chuckled.

Looking a little closer at the paragraph Harry was reading, Sirius laughed harder. "It's Welsh not old English. I suppose they do have similarities. Perhaps you should start from the end. A lot of what you'll learn in there will be modification and improvements on what your ancestors discovered and created. No need to torture yourself kid."

"Oh," was Harry's embarrassed reply.

Reaching over Sirius gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze. "If you have questions, I do want you to come to me, alright? But a lot of what's in there, you're going to have to discover for yourself. I want you to work at it because it is important for your safety, and because it's something that your parents would have wanted you to have."

Harry nodded. "Does that mean I can't teach my friends the spells I learn?"

"You can, but keep it quiet. It's called the _family_ Grimoire for a reason," Sirius replied before standing. "I've got to get back now Harry. Don't hesitate to write to me for any reason, understand?"

Harry rose too and smiled, "Alright."

Giving the boy a quick one-armed hug, he strode to the front door and transformed into Snuffles. Harry looked out of the front window quickly before opening the door. The animagus loped out into the night and was quickly swallowed up by the darkness.

Shutting the door and locking it, Harry walked to the kitchen table to pick up the Grimoire and then turned toward the stairs.

* * *

The Dark Lord strode down the dilapidated corridors of his father's home. The Riddle House looked as though it was falling apart, but it served his purposes well. As he approached the door at the end of the hallway, he heard the distinctive sound of displaced air as one of his servants apparated into the room.

Pulling the door open, he was pleased to see Lucius Malfoy whirl from his position by the fire down to one knee. He smirked, seating himself in a chair.

"Get up. Sit over there," he pointed to a chair close to the fire. The light of the flames illuminated the younger man's face belying his efforts to hide his tension. Voldemort was silent for several more moments before speaking again.

"Well Lucius, what have you gathered for me?" his tone was expectant, and almost cheerful. He smirked, seeing the other man's reflexive and minute shudder.

"My lord, as you are aware I am a member of the Board of Governors for Hogwarts. Currently, those that I have convinced tot join my faction are the minority. Most of the governors are old school mates with Dumbledore and support him," he paused, seeing Voldemort start to frown.

Hurrying, he continued, "Those who support me, however, have their own camps in the Wizengamot. And of course, there is the Minister. Fudge is an idiot, more like an ostrich than a wizard. He has his uses."

Finished, he glanced at his Master. He did not remember Voldemort being so quiet before his fall. Always, he had seemed as though he were bursting with energy and ideas. His servants hardly had a need to talk.

Rousing himself, Voldemort spoke, "I am pleased with your current status. Do try to remember that I am looking for sympathizers, not more servants. It is imperative that you avoid any mention of me, outside our own circle, of course."

He peered at Malfoy thoughtfully. "I do have another task for you tonight."

"Several of the others will be arriving soon to assist me in a ritual, Lucius. The body that I have returned to is acceptable to me, but I cannot see myself going out among our brethren like this. A more permanent sort of glamour is needed."

"I will gladly do anything you ask of me."

"Good," he stopped, cocking his head slightly. Then, rising, he beckoned to Malfoy and began walking toward the door.

"I believe our friends have arrived," pulling open the door, he led the other man to the upper level of the mansion.

Walking toward a set of double doors, he waved them open with his wand. Coming to a stop, in the aging library, he smiled down at the group kneeling before him.

"Excellent, you are all here." Approaching the six Death Eaters, he tapped one lightly on the shoulder.

"Severus, rise. You have brought what I instructed?"

At the professor's nod, he spoke again, "Good, good. All of you get up. Severus will instruct you in this task."

A small furrow grew between his eyebrows as he surveyed the other occupants of the room. _There is nothing I can do to prevent this from happening. Although it will not matter much at the moment whether the dark lord has the face of a monster or a model, it will affect the future. _Breathing imperceptibly, he divested himself of his cloak and the satchel hidden underneath it. Laying the pack on the floor, he removed seven oak branches, a vial of blood, and a long swathe of black hair.

Straightening he addressed the others, "Avery, you, Dolohov, Malfoy, and Rookwood will stand on the left side, while Selwyn and myself will be on the right." Seeing them move hesitantly, Severus stepped closer and positioned them into a rough hexagon. "My lord. Please be seated in the centre." The positions set; Severus backed away and retrieved the oak branches. Passing one to Voldemort and taking one for himself, he gave the remainder to Selwyn.

Once all of the rods were distributed, Severus glanced around the circle, before speaking. "We are here this evening to give our assistance to our Lord. It is simple but requires great concentration," he said. "All our minds must be fixed on what we wish to happen."

"Well said, Severus," the Dark Lord spoke softly, drawing his wand from his sleeve. Waving it gently, he lit the tip of his branch. Though bright, the fire did not consume the wood. Smokeless flame hovered there and gradually grew brighter.

"Light yours using mine, and then we shall begin," he said. Slowly, Severus bent down and touched his branch. The flame leapt from one to the other swiftly. Following suit, the others quickly imitated his actions.

Speaking again, the Dark Lord captured their attention. "The ritual is simple. All I need is a more, shall we say, pleasing face. The oak represents permanence. The hair is mine from my Hogwarts years, and the blood is my sacrifice. Be still and silent." Seeing them bow their heads in acknowledgment, Voldemort opened the vial and poured the contents over the swathe of hair. A faint, earthy smell rose, but before it could become much stronger, he placed the burning oak branch on the hair.

Feeling more than seeing, the slight shifting of the other Death Eaters, Severus quickly bent and placed his own branch on the smouldering pile. Voldemort looked at him briefly before motioning the others to do the same. The flames grew higher, and began to change colour. From its first vibrant yellow, the fire became blue, then green, then orange, and finally settled on a deep, lurid red.

In the hush, only broken by the crackling of the flames, Voldemort spoke, "Rhowch i mi edrych yn twyllo, fel a fydd yn cuddio fy natur o busneslyd ac ysbïo llygaid. Aglaea, yr wyf yn gofyn i chi yma." The flames burned brighter for a moment more, and then abruptly died.

It was then, that Severus realized he had been glaring into the fire. His eyes adjusted slowly and he coughed slightly at the smoke that rose from the pile on the floor. Blinking quickly, he realized that the ritual had been completed. _It was so fast. Although, from what Lucius tells me, the ritual he used to restore his body was over equally quickly. Perhaps the participation of us here was more than simply ceremonial. _Setting his curious thoughts aside, he watched the others and waited for the Dark Lord to speak.

"It is wondrous, is it not?" the Dark Lord's voice posed the question from across the room, something akin to glee colouring his tone. "Light, Avery. I need light."

A quick flick of Avery's wand had a ball of light glowing at the empty candelabras along the walls. The gloom lifted and Severus quickly flicked his eyes to Voldemort's face and then down.

"Look, Severus. Look well all of you. Without any need for foolish wand waving," he looked pointedly at Severus, "I have made another step toward regaining my palace amongst our kind."

Breaking the silence that followed those words, Rookwood's harsh laughter filled the room. "My lord, you look like a different person."

Silencing the laughter with a sharp glare, the Dark Lord raised his hands and slowly ran them over his face. "You're right, I do. And I will put this new face and all of you to work."

Clapping his hands, a chair assembled itself from the debris on the library floor. He seated himself and looked up at them, "I have assignments for all of you."

"Lucius has been telling me of his efforts to make inroads at the Ministry and Hogwarts; however, I want to have the entirety of this country under my control."

"Rookwood. Selwyn and Dolohov will assist you as you make contacts with those in the black markets and those discontents that the Ministry didn't want." Voldemort survey them, "Thoughts?"

"No, My lord," the three men replied as one.

Voldemort frowned, but waved them away. "You may go. I expect to hear from you within two weeks."

As they apparated away, the Dark Lord turned his attention to Avery. "Speak."

"My lord, Yaxley, and I are placed in the Department of Law Enforcement and Mysteries and in both; we have been hearing murmurs about some accord being reached between Bones and Dumbledore. I don't know anything more now, forgive me."

Severus stared at the ground furiously. _ The Ministry is like a leaking cauldron. How was the connection between Shacklebolt and Dumbledore made so quickly? We only convinced him to join a short while ago._

"Lucius, what do you make of it?" Voldemort asked musingly.

"It has been clear for months that Bones is growing increasingly disgusted with working for Cornelius Fudge. Perhaps Dumbledore looks to gain an advantage through that. Bones as Minister might appeal to the public, especially now."

"And you Severus? Has he said anything of value?"

"No, My lord. He has not even left the castle for a holiday." Severus kept his eyes on the ground. He felt the nape of his neck tighten as the Dark Lord's scrutiny rested on him.

The moment passed.

"Our aims require us to make peace for a while, I think. All of you continue to keep your eyes open. I will summon you again." As Severus gathered up his cloak and satchel, the others bowed and apparated away.

"Severus, speak with me a moment," Voldemort said from his chair. Stepping closer, he clutched his bundle tightly. Schooling his face into impassivity, he spoke, "Yes, My lord?" he inquired, "What do you wish of me?"

"Nothing so grand, just a slight change of focus in your tasks. Now that I have returned, I require an ear to the ground, as they say. It won't be enough to just infiltrate the Ministry. I want to control it, and have them be aware that it is I controlling them. And I want them to want me to there. For that, I need you. Are there students you would trust to become close to Harry Potter?"

Severus hesitated. The question was not one he wanted to answer. "My lord, Potter is a Gryffindor, and his animosity with members of my house is infamous. There are not many Slytherin that he hasn't had an altercation with." Even as he spoke the words, he knew they were an exaggeration. _It's only Draco who instigates. Him and his two idiots Crabbe and Goyle._

"Perhaps then, you should find a student who is not so enamoured with licking Draco Malfoy's boots. What about the Greengrass daughter? Or perhaps Vaisey or Zabini? One of those families is sure to owe you a favour. Use it," Voldemort's voice was cold.

"And when I find a suitable child?" he emphasized the last word only slightly. "Should I bring them to you?"

"Don't be a fool. Whoever you choose, you must make them trust you. They should tell you everything, and in turn you will tell me what I want to know." The Dark Lord's crimson eyes caught the light, and seemed to glint for a moment, and Severus nodded in acknowledgment.

"You may go."

* * *

Apparating the very edge of the Hogwarts outer walls, Severus could feel the anti-apparition wards pushing at him. Ignoring the pressure, Severus stepped away from the walls and drew the hood of his cloak over his head. An unseasonable chill was in the air, and it felt as though it would rain. He started to walk, his brisk steps bringing to the castle gates in only a few moments. Steeling himself for the questions ahead, he began to plan what he would say to the Headmaster.

Lost in his thoughts, the doors of the castle seemed to appear out of the late night gloom, as if by magic. Snorting at the inane thought, he pushed one side open gently. For a few moments, his footfalls rang out loudly, and were the only noise he could hear. But within moments, he could hear other steps approaching. Rounding the corner and heading down the hallway that led to the Headmaster's office, the other footsteps grew louder.

"Severus!" the owner of the voice was the Headmaster. Looking for all the world as though it were not past midnight, he was fully dressed in furiously bright fuchsia robes.

"I am not harmed," he said pre-empting the question he knew would follow.

Smiling slightly, the older man shook his head, "I am glad to hear it. You need to not come to my office. I thought I might meet you coming back, and wanted to head you off." Peering at the potion's professor over the rims of his glasses, "You must be tired, so we can speak on the way to your rooms, briefly." Taking Severus by the shoulder, Dumbledore pushed him gently in the other direction.

"Of course, sir," slightly bewildered, Severus allowed himself to be turned around, and began retracing his steps. For a few moments, they walked in silence, the widely spaced candles only giving sparse light.

"Sir, he has created an anchored glamour for himself, as I told you before I left, using his hair and blood, and oak. I do not know where he found or how he developed this ritual, but it seems as though it will hold," he paused as Dumbledore's steps faltered.

"Indeed, Severus, and I'm sure he will use it to great effect. Beauty so often blinds the beholder," sighing softly, the Headmaster clasped his hands behind him. "Continue."

"Although he gave no indication of what he will personally pursue, I did confirm that Avery and Yaxley are the main source of the leaks in the Ministry," Severus hesitated a moment before continuing, "He wants me to find someone to befriend the Potter boy."

They were at the stairs leading to the dungeons, and Dumbledore came to a complete stop on the edge of the first step.

"A Hogwarts student? Will this student become a Death Eater?" the Headmaster's voice was low and dangerous.

Sliding gently away from the other man, Severus answered, "No."

Shooting the professor a sharp glance, Dumbledore stepped closer, "I think you must explain."

"He only requires that the child befriend Potter, and then he wants the student to view me as a confidante," Severus paused, thinking, "an unwitting spy."

The faintly ominous air that had surrounded the Headmaster fell away. "I see. This may actually work in our advantage. Have you anyone in mind?" he turned away and started to walk down the stairs as he posed the question.

Huffing a short sigh, Severus followed him. "The Vaisey boy. You know, I make the Wolfsbane potion for the father."

"Yes. Mr. Vaisey plays Quidditch. Good at Potions. Takes Muggle Studies. A rising fifth year. Good choice, Severus." Dumbledore reached out and squeezed the younger man's shoulder for a moment. "I leave you here. We'll work out the details in the morning," he said, quietly releasing his shoulder.

Realizing that they had reached the door to his quarters rather more quickly than he thought, Severus gave a quick bow and turned toward the door. Placing his hand in the centre of the door, he felt it give way as it recognized his magical signature. Turning his head slightly, "Good night Headmaster."

* * *

The television set woke him up. He could hear the sounds of the EastEnders theme blaring. Wondering vaguely when he had fallen asleep, he struggled to remember what day it was. Harry rolled over, staring out of the window, thoughts aimless. He could see the sun starting to set. Pushing himself up, he sat hunched on the edge of the bed for a moment before grabbing his shirt off the desk chair and pulling it over his head.

Stretching once, he pulled open the door to his room and walked softly downstairs to the kitchen. Looking at the calendar next to the refrigerator, he felt a frission of shock run through him as he realized that it was Sunday. His birthday was tomorrow. In the two weeks since the will reading, he had pored over the Grimoire day and night. Whenever he could spare a minute from the unending cleaning sessions or work in the garden, he brought out the book.

Reading it was intoxicating, but for the past several days, Harry had started to feel uncertain about his own skills. Even his Dad had managed to add something to the Grimoire before he died. He didn't think there was anything in his experience that would add to what his ancestors had done long before. Not for the first time, Harry resented being placed with the Dursleys. _Who knows what I would be able to do if I wasn't stuck here._ Jerking open the refrigerator door, he pulled out the chicken he had set to marinate.

Going through the familiar motions of cooking lulled him into calmness. So much so that he nearly dropped a plate when an owl swished through the open kitchen window. Staring at the bird as it perched on the back of a chair, Harry stood motionless. A quiet hoot from the strange owl broke his reverie and had him setting the plate down sharply. Scrubbing his hands on a towel, he moved to the owl and untied the letter he could see wrapped around its foot.

A little wary, he unrolled it and was surprised, as it seemed to enlarge itself.

_Hogwarts students,_

_You have successfully completed your fourth year at Hogwarts Schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the year ahead, you can expect more demanding coursework and will begin preparation for the OWL examinations. The OWLs will determine the course of your final two years at Hogwarts. _

_As such, the Hogwarts professors have decided to create a mandatory tutoring system. Utilising input from your teachers and the results of your fourth year exams, we have matched you with a student who tutor you in your weakest subject and who you in turn will assist. At the end of this document, you will find the list of students and a professor you will work with in the coming year. _

_Prepare well for the year ahead,_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

_Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress_

_Head of Gryffindor House_

_**Harold James Potter:**_

_Professor Bathsheda Babbling_

_Justin Finch-Fletchley_

_Daphne Greengrass_

_Hannah Abbott_

_Padma Patil_

_Charlus Vaisey_


End file.
